Dark Discoveries
by Angel Weasley Wood
Summary: When Harry Potter is abused during the summer before fifth year, one person tries to save him before it becomes too late. Please RR. Avoids OotP Canon.
1. Chapter 1

**Dark Discoveries**

Harry sat on a swing in Magnolia Crescent, slowly swinging his body back and forth. He kicked some of the sand beneath him and willed himself not to sob. He looked down at his arm, which was currently covered by a long sleeved sweatshirt twice his size. Rolling up the sleeve, he saw dark purple and grey bruises, some new, some elder.

Ever since he'd gotten home from fourth year, the Dursley's would beat him up repeatedly, sometimes for things he didn't do. If Dudley broke something, he got beaten. If someone took the last of the soda, he got beaten. In fact, Harry couldn't remember a day since he came back that he wasn't being beaten up.

He tried writing people about it, but after he'd sent Hedwig out, Uncle Vernon would somehow stop the owl, take off the message, read it, and beat Harry up for every bad thing it said about them. Harry was trapped. With no means of escape, he had to suffer another month and a half of abuse before he could have even a bit of freedom.

Sick of sitting there, waiting to be found by one of his twisted relatives, he got up and limped down the street to the convenience store. He walked up to the clerk and looked at the wall behind him.

"Can I help you, sir?" the clerk asked, looking down at him.

"One carton of those…" he said, pointing at some cigarettes.

"ID?"

Harry pulled a fake ID out of his pocket and showed it to the clerk. The clerk checked it, then handed it back to him, grabbing the cigarettes.

"8.50."

Harry handed him some money he'd stolen from Dudley's night stand and took the carton, storming out of the store and pulling out a lighter.

"Harry?" someone familiar said, coming out behind him.

"What do you want, Seamus?"

"What were you doing in there?"

Harry pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a drag. "Shopping. Want one?"

"Do you have any idea how BAD those things are for you?"

Harry shrugged. "Whatever."

Seamus saw the rolled up sleeve and examined Harry's arm in the dim light outside the store.

"Blimey! What the hell happened to your arm?"

Harry slid down the sleeve and grumbled. "Fell down some stairs. Don't worry about it… what are you doing around here, anyway?"

"I live a couple blocks away. Mum and Dad separated, and I'm living with me Dad for the month."

"That sucks…" Harry said, taking another intake on the cigarette.

"It's not that bad, really."

"Yeah, at least you have a family that gives a fuck about you."

"Why don't you stay the night? You really shouldn't be walking home in this weather…"

Harry shrugged. "Whatever…" he took one final, long puff on the cigarette and dropped it, stepping on it to put out the small fire and following Seamus down the street.

Seamus led him into a small house a few blocks away.

"You can stay in the living room or the guest room… whichever you prefer."

"Anything is better than that stupid cupboard."

"Cupboard?"

"Yeah, it's like a 4x6 cupboard under the stairs at my… relatives' house."

"And they make you sleep in there!"

Harry shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me, really. It's only for two months, then I'm back at Hogwarts."

"It does matter! They can't just SHOVE you in a cabinet."

"Cupboard…" Harry corrected.

"Still… that's just not right."

"Whatever. Life sucks, then you die."

"Harry, you deserve so much better than that…. You deserve family that actually CARES and doesn't use you as a human punching bag."

"It doesn't really matter to me. Two more years, I'll move out. Things will be fine."

"Harry…" Seamus said, trying to debate with him.

"Just stop Seamus. I didn't come to be lectured. I came to actually sleep somewhere where I can get a good night's sleep without Dudley sitting on me."

"Fine… guest room is upstairs to the right. Bathroom is right next to it."

Without looking at Seamus, Harry trudged up the stairs and into the guest room, collapsing onto the bed tiredly and holding back tears.

Seamus walked past the guest room and looked inside, seeing Harry curled up into a ball. Sighing, he walked into his bedroom next to it, taking off his shirt, and climbing into bed.

The next morning, Harry left silently before anyone in the house had woken up. He walked down the streets and toward Privet Drive, ready for the abuse that lay ahead of him.

He walked alone and onto the doorstep of 4 Privet Drive. Seeing that neither Uncle Vernon's nor Aunt Petunia's cars were in the driveway, he sighed a deep sigh of relief and snuck in through the back door.

"Well hello, cousin!" Dudley said, fake cheeriness in his voice.

"What do you want?" Harry mumbled.

"You didn't come home last night…"

"Yeah. I was at a friend's house."

"Don't lie. We know you don't have friends."

"Right… that's like saying you're not a filthy, grimy fatso who pays to have his friends." Harry retorted.

Instead of responding, Dudley tackled him to the ground and punched him repeatedly, starting at the gut and moving up to his face.

When Dudley was done, Harry lay there on the rug, bleeding on the carpet and gasping for air.

"You're bleeding all over the floor!" Dudley shouted. "Clean it up!"

After many deep breaths, Harry got up dizzily and stumbled over to the cabinet, picking up a cloth and some carpet cleaner. He cleaned up the blood before it stained and went to his cupboard, crawled onto his bed, and silently sobbed. After putting a hand to the back of his head, he noticed a small puddle of blood enclosed in his palm.

"Just great…" Harry said to himself, taking off his cracked glasses and rubbing his swollen eye.

He couldn't take much more of it. He stormed out the front door, cigarettes and lighter in his pocket, wrecked glasses on his face and limping back toward Seamus's house.

He knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer.

Seamus opened the door slowly. "Harry, what the hell…?"

"Don't ask." Harry mumbled, stumbling forward.

"Harry… you have to get to the hospital. You're bleeding everywhere."

"I'm fine, don't worry about it."

"Then why are you here?"

"I don't know. Sort of out of it… and just walked here."

"Harry. Listen to me. We don't have to tell your aunt and uncle anything. I'm sure my dad would pay the hospital bill. You really need to go, Harry."

"I don't care if I NEED to go. I'm already in deep enough as it is with them. If I don't show up before they get home, I'm pretty sure there'll be no more Boy Who Lived. I'll be the Boy Who Lived Once Upon a Time and Didn't Come Home so He Became the Boy Who No Longer Lives."

"Harry…" Seamus said, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Just please go. We'll figure something out later."

Harry sighed. "Fine. Whatever.".

"Dad, can I get a ride to the hospital?" Seamus shouted.

"What are you doing!"

"We need to get you there faster then we can walk. I'll come up with something."

Seamus's dad came out from the kitchen. "Why do you need a ride to the hosp" he looked at Harry, eyes wide open, "hospital?"

"My friend Harry here fell off his motorbike… I think he's zoned out because he walked over here…"

"Does Harry have any family?" his dad asked, grabbing his coat.

"None that cares…" Harry mumbled.

"Not really…" Seamus said, leading Harry out to his father's car, grabbing a towel before he left. He put the towel behind Harry's head and seated him carefully in the backseat."

"Don't worry, Harry. You'll be okay."

Harry groaned slightly and turned to the side. "Seamus?"

"Yeah, mate?"

"Thanks…" he whispered low enough for Seamus to hear.

"Anytime…" Seamus said, buckling Harry and closing the door. Seamus took the passenger's seat as his father started the car and drove to the hospital.

When they got there, Seamus filled out the forms for Harry, while Harry sat beside him, lingering between conscious and unconscious.

"Name… Harry James Potter. Birthdate… July 31st, 1980… Insurance… probably none…"

Seamus turned in the forms and waited beside Harry for someone to care for him.

"Harry… Harry stay with me now…"

Harry opened his eyes weakly and looked at Seamus. "Seamus, I'm sorry…"

"You don't have to be. It's not your fault." Seamus said, stroking Harry's hair and running a finger over the famous lightning bolt scar. "It's not your fault…" he repeated softly.

Harry looked at him again before closing his eyes.

"Harry Potter…" one of the nurses said, calling for him. Seamus helped Harry up and swung Harry's left arm over his shoulder, bringing him down the hall to an empty room.

While waiting for the doctor, Seamus knew Harry wasn't just cut up. He knew how bad it was for him and that he didn't deserve it. He stayed beside his injured friend and held his hand for comfort and support.

When a doctor came in, Seamus stayed sitting beside him.

"What happened?" the doctor asked, looking at Harry's injuries.

"Um… he fell off his motorbike…" Seamus lied, looking at Harry. "He came to my house and I drove him here…"

"Are you his family?"

"No… close friend. His family is on vacation…"

The doctor further examined Harry's many cuts and bruises.

"Some of these bruises are quite old… know what happened?"

"Yes… he's very accident prone…" Seamus lied again. "Falls down all the time."

The doctor pulled up a stool beside Harry. "Going to have to put stitches on the back of his head…" he observed. "Maybe in a few other places as well… clean him up a bit. Probably cracked a rib or two… going to be sore for quite a few days."

"Thought so…" Seamus mumbled.

"Probably going to need to have an eye on him constantly."

"I'll watch him… don't worry."

"Do you want to stay while I fix him up or wait in the waiting area?"

"I'll stay…" Seamus said confidently, not wanting to leave his friend's side.

Harry was a lot worse off than Seamus thought. He had stitches in two different places on his head, meaning his head was bandaged all around, a set on his hand and one on his arm. A few ribs had cracked, which is why the doctor had removed Harry's shirt and bandaged his chest. He had sprained his right wrist and was put on different painkillers to stabilize him.

Seamus waited by Harry's bedside, waiting for him to wake up. He held his hand again, stroking it softly as to not hurt him more.

Harry opened his eyes groggily and looked at the ceiling. "Where am I?" he asked, his voice hoarse, rubbing his eyes.

"The hospital. Don't worry… you'll be okay in a few days… you can stay at my place until you get better…"

Silent tears streamed down Harry's face. "It's never going to get better… they'll just keep hurting me as much as possible. They won't quit, Seamus… I know they won't."

Seamus hugged Harry delicately. "They will Harry… it'll just take time…" he whispered in Harry's ear.

Harry tried sitting up, but was instantly winded. Seamus helped ease him back down onto the bed.

"I wouldn't recommend doing that for a few days…"

"What's the damage?"

"Broken ribs… stitches in a hell of a lot of places... sprained wrist…. Harry, you can't keep letting this happen to you."

"Then what do you suppose I do, huh?" Harry said, picking a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it.

"First of all, lay off these…" Seamus said, taking it out of his mouth and stepping on it. "And second, get the hell out of that house. C'mon… I'll take you back to my house. Take care of you for a few days…"

Harry nodded painfully as Seamus scooped him into his arms and found the strength to carry him out to the parking lot and into his father's car.

After his father drove them to the house, Seamus again carried him, up the stairs and into the guest room. He put a shirt on Harry carefully, put him under the blankets, and tucked him in gingerly. He then pulled over an armchair from the corner and sat beside Harry, in case he would need something.

Harry woke up, a lot more conscious, a few hours later.

"S-Seamus?" he said tiredly.

"Yeah?" Seamus said, sitting upright in the chair.

"What happened? Where are we?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"You came to my house this morning… I brought you to the hospital… you're getting better."

Harry put his hand to his head and realized the bandaging. "Got an ashtray?" Harry asked.

"You don't need to smoke, Harry. You need to get better."

"I've been through enough shit, Seamus. If I need a smoke, I need a smoke." Harry snapped at him.

Seamus didn't need to be told twice. He picked up an empty pot from by the windowsill and put it on the nightstand. "Just not a lot…"

"Don't worry… I only got 10 left…" Harry said, sticking one in the corner of his mouth and pulling out a lighter. He inhaled deeply as he searched the nightstand for his glasses. He grabbed them and put them on.

"Seamus, can you get me some water?"

He nodded. "Be careful…" he said, looking at Harry and walking out of the room.

Harry sighed deeply and attempted to sit up carefully. He drew in another drag of the cigarette when he'd successfully sat up.

When Seamus came back in, Harry looked at him.

"Seamus, do you have an owl I could borrow by chance?"

"Yeah… he's in my room, I'll get him for you."

"Thanks." Harry said, grabbing a quill and parchment from the nightstand.

"Who are you writing? Your family?"

"Please, like they'd give two shits if I was dead on the streets…" he said, taking the cigarette out for a minute and placing it in the pot.

'Ron…' Harry started in the letter.

'Mate, things couldn't suck more right now. I would've told you earlier, but that only gave my uncle ammunition to beat the shit out of me… I'm at Seamus's father's house right now. It's a REALLY long story. But… do you think you could come by? I haven't seen you or Hermione in forever…

I'm thankful Seamus took me in. My relatives suck ass. Things suck.

Try getting me some cigarettes, too. I'm running low.

Harry.'

He tied the letter to the dark owl's leg and Seamus opened the window for it to deliver Harry's letter.

"Seamus, can I ask you something?"

"Sure…"

"Why'd you take me in?" Harry asked, picking his cigarette up.

"Well…"

"Well?"

"I couldn't really let you stay with them. They'd kill you…"

"No, before you knew the story. You took me in. Why?"

"Harry, it's complicated. Please don't ask me."

"I want to know."

"I'll tell you later…" Seamus declared. "Your water's on the nightstand… just call if you need anything. I'm right next door."

"Kay…" Harry said, taking a final drag and putting out the cigarette. "Whatever…"

Seamus looked at Harry one last time, then went to his bedroom to get some well deserved sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry this is such a small update. I've been extremely busy with assignments and studying and MCAS and such. I promise the next update will be longer. and better than this.

The next morning, Harry woke up unpleasantly around nine o' clock and hobbled down the stairs painfully, clinging to the railing. He made it into the living room when he lost the feeling in his legs and collapsed.

"DAMNIT!" he shouted, causing Seamus to run out from the kitchen and help him up.

"Harry, what're you doing out of bed?"

"Damnit Seamus, I just wanted to get the HELL out of bed and get a drink, maybe a cigarette, but I can't even walk down a set of FUCKING stairs on my own without needing fucking assistance."

"Harry…" Seamus said, sighing. "You'll be better soon. Until then… just relax up in bed."

"Seamus, I'm sick of just 'sitting in bed'. I can't take much more of it, and it's only been a fucking DAY."

"Harry…" Seamus started softly.

"I need to go get a smoke…" Harry said, hobbling to the front door, opening to screen door, and sitting on the front steps. He took his cigarettes from his pocket, lit one, and sucked on it, taking in the nicotine.

Seamus looked through the screen door and saw Harry smoking again. He sighed as his mind raced uncontrollably. He wished Harry would stop smoking, but knew he couldn't do anything about it.

Harry sat on the porch smoking, and just realized he wasn't wearing his glasses. Before he could yell for Seamus, Seamus had handed the glasses to him.

"Thanks…" Harry mumbled, exhaling the smoke.

"Want some painkillers?"

Harry nodded as Seamus handed him a glass of water and a few pills. Harry swallowed the pills without the water and sighed.

"Something wrong?"

Harry shook his head as he ran a hand through his hair. "Nope."

"Need more cigarettes?"

"I thought you hated me smoking…" he said curiously, flicking off some ash and taking a drag.

"I do, but I figure there's nothing I can do to stop you."

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, I could use a big carton of them…"

"I'll get it for you. Finish that one, and I'll go."

"Thanks…" Harry said, putting out the cigarette and starting to stand. When Seamus saw this, he helped Harry up and onto the living room couch.

"You just relax; I'll go get your cigarettes."

"You don't even have a fake ID." Harry pointed out.

"Think so?" Seamus asked, pulling out his wallet and handing it to Harry, who cleared his throat and read it aloud.

'Age – 22 Location – Little Whinging, Surrey Name – " at this, Harry couldn't hold back his laughter.

"What?" Seamus asked, snatching it.

"You named yourself Mr. Ben Dover!"

Seamus looked at it. "Let me see yours, then!"

"Mine's not that bad… I'm just 21-year-old Mr. Curtis Daniels from London. You're Mr. Ben Dover from Surrey."

"I don't know what you're talking about… It's just a name. There's nothing wrong with- ohh…." Seamus said, realizing the name.

"You should've just done Mr. I.M. Horny."

"Ha.Ha." Seamus fake laughed. "I'm off to get your cigarettes. Stay on the couch and be careful."

"See ya, Ben Dover!" Harry shouted.

Seamus gave him the finger before storming out the front door.

The painkillers Seamus had given Harry had knocked him out in a few minutes. Harry lay comfortably on the couch and fell asleep, resting his head against the armrest.

Seamus walked through the front door, his face covered by grocery bags.

"I got your cigarettes for you. Also got some soup and some Sprite, in case you get hungry or something… want some food?"

He put the bags down in the kitchen and walked back to the living room. Seeing Harry asleep, he sighed, put a blanket over him, rested a pillow underneath his head, and went back to the kitchen to unpack the groceries.

A while later, Harry started mumbling in his sleep.

"Seamus?" he mumbled. "Seamus!"

Seamus rushed downstairs to check on Harry.

"What?" Seamus asked, reaching the bottom stair.

"Pain…" he gasped out.

"Harry, wake up…" Seamus said, shaking him.

Harry started sweating in his sleep. "STOP."

"WAKE UP!" Seamus shouted in his ear.

He woke up instantly and looked at Seamus like a lost puppy.

"Are you okay?" Seamus asked.

"FINE." Harry said grouchily, throwing the blanket off.

"Harry, what was it?"

"NOTHING." Harry snapped, trying to get up.

Seamus tried pushing him back down, but Harry found the strength to push him out of the way and storm out the front door with the carton of cigarettes.

Harry walked down the empty streets, lighting a cigarette and getting as far away from there as possible. Harry looked at his arm, where a scar had formed. This wasn't from the Dursleys. This was a scar that Lord Voldemort had given him just before school ended, in the Riddle Family graveyard. Every time he'd look at that scar, he'd be reminded that he was responsible for Cedric's death and the rebirth of Voldemort. That incident was why Harry had turned to alcohol and smoking in the first place. He knew he shouldn't be out of bed, but also knew being in bed would just drive him mad.

Harry walked down the vacant streets and into the local convenience store.

"Can I help you?"

"I'll take a six-pack of Bud and a carton of cigarettes."

"Any ID?"

Harry rummaged through his pocket for his ID.

"Well…?"

"SHIT." Harry said to himself.

"You got ID or not?"

"I do… but I left it somewhere… though I'm not sure where…"

"You'd better get it. No ID, no booze."

Harry imitated him and walked back to Seamus's house empty handed.

After opening the door, Harry was greeted in a way he didn't think would happen.

"OH MY GOD, HARRY!" Hermione shouted, pouncing on him and hugging him tight. "What happened?"

"Hermione… broken ribs… you're NOT helping."

She lessened her grip and mumbled a sorry.

"So, Harry, what's going on? Ron got a letter that said you were in the hospital…"

"It was nothing… just fell off of a motorbike."

"Where did you get a motorbike?"

Harry stumbled trying to answer. Seamus, who was on the couch playing Nintendo, looked up.

"It was my cousin's. He stopped by… Harry had forgotten the helmet and took a wrong turn… ended up crashing on the ground."

"REALLY?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded silently.

"It's a miracle you're even alive right now, Harry! With all those accidents that have happened to people on motorbikes… I'm so glad you're okay…"

Ron, who had the second controller for Super Mario Brothers, looked up at Harry.

"When'd you get here?"

"HONESTLY, Ronald…" Hermione said, rolling her eyes and sitting next to Ron, ripping the controller out of his hands. "You're doing it all wrong!"

"HEY! I was playing that!" Ron shouted objectively.

"Not well…" she mumbled, pushing him out of his seat. "You've already lost two lives, which could've been easily prevented by pressing A and then Select. Then you escape the castle and rescue Princess Peach, which I think is a really stupid concept. The damsel in distress thing is extremely sexist! "

"And Hermione Granger ruins Muggle video games for me." Ron mumbled, glaring at Hermione and sitting next to Harry, who had relaxed on the sofa. "So, how's it going, Harry?"

"Just fine… I'm in a land where they bake cakes from lollypops and rainbows and unicorns prance around and there are butterbeer fountains EVERYWHERE!"

"Is he, by any chance, on any medication?" Hermione asked, as she slammed the A key.

Seamus nodded, not taking his eyes off the screen.

and this is where my muse disappeared. 


End file.
